Snippet #950300

#5 sat up and yawned, looking around at the others. "Okay, why did we decide my cover was where we would hold our little group therapy sessions." Palming his face with the half ash cigarette in between his fingers, he put his head down on the table. #5 was running through his styles and techniques through his head to make sure he was at least training mentally. It had been over a month since he received a mission. It was to be expected after what happened on his last one. But, the operative said make it send a message so it wasn't #5 fault that the city went into a state of emergency. A faint smile was seen on his face as he remembered slicing the guns of those trying to protect his target. Standing up and looking at the others he gave a small wave as he turned to the stairs leading to the second floor, which was also where his living accommodations were. "I'm gonna go shine my sword... that was not a metaphor." Putting out his smoke in the counter ash tray, he looked at #12. "Do not drink too much. I still got a business to run". He went up the stairs into the small, one room apartment. Untying his ponytail, his pale green hair fell. Moving it out of his face he went over to his bed and grabbed the cloth on top and the guitar case beside it. He opened the case and pulled out the long sword.